


No Girls Allowed

by der_tanzer



Series: Protective Custody [6]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Murray's had enough of burping the Greek, he knows just where to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Girls Allowed

**Author's Note:**

> Tag to Where the Girls Are, so minor spoilers for that ep.  
> 

"I know this is kind of out of nowhere," Murray said shyly, "but can I stay with you for a couple days?"

"You're kidding, right?" Quinlan asked in disbelief. But the gym bag in Murray's hand implied that he wasn't.

"If that's a no, I'll go away."

"No, c'mon in. What's the matter, kid? Your buddies kick you out?"

"There's snow in Minneapolis."

"So?" He closed the door and went back to the sofa where he'd been watching TV. "What's that got to do with anything? Are you talking in code now?"

"Those girls who were visiting—the ones who kept getting kidnapped—they were supposed to go home today but the airports are closed. They're going to be here another two days and I—I just couldn't take it anymore. The music and the hair driers and the—the lacy unmentionables all over the boat—it's too much. I mean, I grew up with a sister, and a very pretty one, I might add, but it was nothing like this. I gave them my room, and if I can't stay here, I'll go to a motel." By now he was pacing, waving his arms, and Quinlan smiled.

"No, sit down. You don't have a bunch of computers out in the car or anything, do you?"

"No, I—Nick dropped me off. He and Cody are taking the girls sight-seeing tomorrow so I can get some work done. I'll probably end up rewiring the entire pier, if tonight is anything like last night."

"I thought queer-boys like you were all into girls. Don't you want to share make-up and fix each other's hair?"

"Not when I can be getting laid," he smiled. "And speaking of queer, I'm not the one who started all this, am I? No, I was just following orders, letting the police guard me, and sleeping peacefully in my own little bed, when you decided to—"

"All right, that's enough. You can stay, but you better keep out of sight and don't give me any shit."

"Keep out of whose sight? Yours, or the neighbors? Should I sneak out before dawn?"

"Now that you mention it…"

"Forget I brought it up. Those girls don't get up until nine and they won't have their make-up on until noon. You can't get near them before then. But I'll do my best not to let the neighbors see me, _Lieutenant_."

"You know I'm kidding, Bozinsky. You want a beer?"

"I'd better not. I might get tipsy and start giving you shit."

"Good thinking. You can still get me one, though. It's in the kitchen."

Murray rolled his eyes but went to get the beer.

"So, what are we watching?" he asked, handing over the bottle and taking a seat at the other end of the sofa.

"Wrath of Khan," Quinlan said shortly. It would have been obvious, had Murray not come in during the commercial break.

"Oh, _boss_. I love this movie. Have you seen the new one? The Search For Spock? It's so great. I must have spent half the summer at the theater. When I wasn't working, of course. Nick and Cody gave me such a hard time about it—I probably saw it twenty times, but I don't think—"

"Shut up, Bozinsky," he said mildly, and Murray did.

***

When Quinlan declared it to be bedtime, Murray offered to sleep on the sofa and was met with a puzzled expression.

"That what you came over for? To sleep in my living room?"

"I came over to get away from the make-up and pantyhose. I'll sleep wherever you want; I just didn't want to—intrude."

"Interesting choice of words. Come on, I'm tired."

Murray was blushing as he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He'd spent the night several times during the summer and it had never been awkward, but he'd never asked to stay past dawn before. Normally, he walked home in the shadows of the rising sun and nothing was ever said about it. This would be very different.

"You bring your jammies, kid?"

Murray paused, hands going still on the buttons of his shirt.

"You want me to wear pajamas all of a sudden?"

"Just making conversation."

"You're screwing with my head and I don't appreciate it, Lieutenant. How long have we been doing this, six months? And in all that time, it's never occurred to you to be even a little bit honest with me, has it? A little bit—real—the way friends are supposed to be. Has it?"

"Hey, I never said…" But he had, and Murray would remember. He had said they were friends, once. He pushed Murray's hands away from the buttons and kissed him, covering for the words he wouldn't say. _This is as real as it gets, kid. This is all I have to give._

Murray held on and kissed him back.

What felt like hours later, but was really about forty-five minutes, Murray was lying on his back with Quinlan's head on his bony chest. He stroked damp hair back from the sweaty forehead, breathing shallowly so Ted wasn't disturbed too much. His own heart was still racing and he could feel the lieutenant's smile against his skin.

"Can I ask you something, Ted?"

He felt the smile waver a bit, followed by a mild shrug.

"I just want to understand. I mean, I know we're friends in our way, but you don't really _like_ me, and I accept that. It's just, when we're together—I know I don't know much about this kind of thing, so I could be completely wrong—it sure wouldn't be the first time, although my reasoning is usually pretty sound when it comes to simple logical problems—"

"Is there a question in there somewhere?" Ted interrupted, his smile spreading.

"Yes, there is. Why does it always feel like—like we're making love? I mean, isn't that a little odd when you—you don't _love_ me?"

"I guess I must just like you that much."

"How much?" Murray asked, his heartbeat belying his casual tone.

"Enough to want you to feel like we're making love," he shrugged. "You got a problem with that?"

"No. No, I guess not. I just—I wish…" He trailed off helplessly, his hands tightening on Quinlan's shoulders.

"Go to sleep, Bozinsky. You gotta get up early in the morning, remember?" he teased.

His hands relaxed and he drew a deep sigh. There had been a window there somewhere, he was sure of it, but it was gone now. Murray closed his eyes and hoped there would be another soon.


End file.
